


Knickpoint

by Lemon_Lemmings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Gen, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Major Character Injury, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_Lemmings/pseuds/Lemon_Lemmings
Summary: “You big idiot!” Lance shouts, pelting to where Hunk stands, downed Galra general and crushed launcher a few lengths away. “Why the heck did you do that!?”“Because you were about to,” Hunk replies, dazed, almost fragile sounding.





	Knickpoint

“You big idiot!” Lance shouts, pelting to where Hunk stands, downed Galra general and crushed launcher a few lengths away. “Why the heck did you do that!?”

“Because you were about to,” Hunk replies, dazed, almost fragile sounding.

“Quiznak! It’s a miracle you didn’t get hit!” Lance snaps instead of confirmation that’s bound to turn into an argument. He doesn’t feel like arguing. He just feels shaken and skittish and his heartbeat is still skidding its way back to a normal velocity in the aftermath of what nearly happened.

“No,” Hunk mumbles, slowly shaking his head.

“Yes! You were this close to—“ And Lance breaks off, seeing everything he needs to know stark on his best friend’s face.

Hunk moves his bayard away to reveal the sickly pink projectile pierced into his side. The heavy black fabric of his suit is torn around its intrusion and blood steadily drips off the protruding point. It’s double-bladed. Hunk trembles all over. He takes a shaky step and stumbles, bayard weighing him down.

“Put it back.” Lance quickly grasps its handle, helping him dematerialize the cannon. “Put it back, come on, you don’t need it anymore.”

Hunk’s still swaying even without the extra weight and Lance ducks under his arm to support him.

“Don’t fall,” he half-instructs, half-begs, swallowing thickly. “You’re gonna be okay but I gotta get you to the Blue Lion.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Hunk murmurs, awed with shock. “I barely feel it at all. Is that good?”

“Sure, big guy,” Lance replies with a forced calm that he does not remotely feel.

They’re on their own here. The others are on a different mission. Their own mission wasn’t supposed to get this dangerous. Routine reconnaissance. Then again, the mission itself wasn’t dangerous. Hunk’s been wounded post objective.

He stumbles, legs buckling. Lance gasps and frantically tries to steady him, but Hunk is heavy and the ground is uneven here. They nearly hit the dirt together before a massive purple shape intercepts.

“Yup.”

Lance curls his fingers into the greasy, shaggy fur on the yupper’s neck and straightens himself. Hunk has his other arm slung around the yupper’s back, trying to find his own feet. The creature doesn’t protest. It swings it's square face to look at Lance, yellow eyes glittering bright.

“Thanks,” Lance murmurs warily, patting its shoulder.

“Yup.”

“Can we stop?” Hunk whines, breathy. “It’s starting to hurt now.”

Lance chews his lip, glancing down at the injury. The blood dripping off the tip is faster now. Lance isn’t sure exactly how deep it’s speared in, but he doesn’t have to to know it’s serious.

“You just got to make it to Blue,” he encourages, squeezing Hunk’s wrist. “Come on, buddy, it’s not that far. Then you can lie down and I’ll break out the first aid kit, and get you nice and patched up until we make it back to the castle.”

Hunk makes a small noise of assent and pulls himself to a quaky stand. The yupper, to Lance’s surprise, moves to his other side, staying on all fours. It nudges itself under Hunk’s arm again and tips its head, almost like it’s imploring him.

Lance blinks rapidly, wondering how intelligent yuppers actually are. It genuinely seems like this hulking, toothy beast wants to help.

“Maybe she’s saying thank you?” Hunk asks, tentatively leaning on the yupper a bit, giving its flank a gentle pat.

He’d gotten hit in the first place because he went back to free it, something he correctly guessed that Lance was mere moments away from doing himself.

The warden on Beta Traz seemed to treat Laika like a beloved pet, but this yupper here couldn’t have been more than a guard dog. It had been chained up to a small stake in the yard, in between the projectile launcher and the hub. The poor thing had hardly enough space to walk and its fur was ratty and unkempt. One of the small small, blunt horns on its head was chipped and the other was cracked. Its chain hung heavily on its neck and it seemed downright miserable.

“How did you know I was gonna go back for the yupper?”

Hunk wheezes a laugh. “You think you’re subtle? It was written all over your face, you sap.”

“Takes one to know one,” Lance teases, pitch high and reedy with nerves. This is bad. This is _so_ bad.

“Yup,” offers the alien canine.

Even with the support, the walk’s taking a toll on Hunk. Sweat pours from his ashen face and blood patters down between them nonstop, like the echo of a leaky faucet. He doesn’t complain but he makes soft, hurt noises every other step and groans through gritted teeth. Complaining would be much better; Hunk would definitely be complaining if he felt up to it. The noises are a bad sign.

As soon as they make it to the Blue Lion, he drops like a coconut from a palm tree. Lance tries his best to ease him down slowly and the yupper follows his example, steadily lowering itself in tandem. Lance keeps his friend semi-upright as best as he can and props him back against Blue’s wall. Hunk blearily looks down to the projectile imbedded into his body and wraps shaky hands around its point, red smearing onto his gloves.

“Don’t pull it out,” Lance warns, ghosting his own hands overtop.

“It hurts,” Hunk whimpers. “Inside. I feel it cutting in…”

“I know it sucks, buddy,” Lance murmurs sympathetically, “but if we pull it out, you’re gonna bleed even worse.”

“Hate blood,” he rasps, shutting his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. I’m not a fan either.” Lance bites his lip and pulls out the first aid kit. He uses the provided scissors to snip more of Hunk’s suit away so he can get a better look at the wound. The projectile doesn’t appear to have entered on a straight course. The protruding part is angled slightly downward.

Which means what’s spearing inside Hunk is angled upward. Hopefully it isn’t tearing into anything vital. Gulping at the thought, Lance takes a roll of heavy Altean bandaging from the kit and begins wrapping it around his friend’s torso, firm as he can even though his hands are trembling. The absorbent, spongey fabric eagerly soaks up the blood. It’s scary as shit how fast blue-white stains red, but Lance tries to keep his focus on stabilizing the projectile.

“Ow.”

“Sorry. Just hold still, I’m almost done.”

The yupper perks its head up and sniffs at Hunk’s hair, slurping a fat tongue over the side of his face.

“Aww,” Lance bubbles, latching onto a chance to distract him. “She’s trying to make you feel better.”

“Yeah, she’s a sweetie,” Hunk says, giving the creature’s ear a fond scratch.

Lance pauses to give his friend a look over. Even though he’s settled, the perspiration’s still pouring. He’s awfully washed out and wan under the sheen of it, headband sodden and hair plastered to his temples. Not good. Lance chews his lip and secures the bandages with a couple clasps.

“Done,” he announces brightly, forcing a smile. Panic is practically Hunk’s personal plague, so Lance refuses to let his own show.

“Sit tight, okay? Think of a name for our new friend.”

“Wait,” Hunk pleads.

“No time, buddy, we’ve gotta get you to a pod. It’s alright, I’ll only be like five feet away.”

“Yup,” is the yupper’s deeply insightful input.

“But I feel like I’m gonna pass out,” Hunk gasps urgently. “You can’t let me pass out and I— I’m scared, I wanna hold this.” He curls a hand around Lance’s and squeezes weakly.

Lance squeezes back, swallowing. “Okay, I hear you, just uh…let me see if I can put Blue on autopilot, alright? Stay awake for like, two seconds and I’ll be right back. Really, think of a name for the yupper. If we’re bringing her to the castle, she needs a name.”

“Yup,” agrees the beast.

Hunk gives a nod and reluctantly releases Lance’s hand. There’s a fully body shiver in the movement that Lance does not miss and for all his urge to rev Blue up and get the quiznak back to the castle, fresh dread roots him to the spot.

“A-Are you cold?”

“Kinda,” Hunk admits, leaning his head against the yupper’s shoulder. He doesn’t seem to realize that’s just as bad as feeling faint and if he were thinking clearly, he would.

Lance’s heart pounds harder and he quickly ducks back into Blue’s seat. The horror that it’s already too late spreads through him like a white hot venom.

 _You know where the castle is, right?_ he inquires mentally, shutting his eyes as he grips the levers. _Can you take the lead here? And fast?_

After a moment, Lance receives his answer. He feels acceptance push into his mind and Blue roars as she takes off. She’s gunning it too, jetting at hyper speed in response to Lance’s urgency. Despite the speed, it's a smoother trip than the first time she outright took everybody for a joy ride. She must pick it up that Hunk can’t handle a bounce around the cockpit. Lance gratefully pats the levers before he scurries back to his friend’s side.

“Yup,” greets the yupper.

“Still with me, buddy?”

Hunk nods wearily. “Eggplant.”

“What?” Lance demands, alarmed.

Is this delirium from blood loss?

“The yupper’s name,” he mumbles. “It fits. She’s purple.”

Lance sighs with the sweep of slight relief. “Oh, no way. Eggplant is a horrible name.”

He takes the foil blanket from the supply kit and unfolds it as he settles himself next to Hunk. He carefully tucks it so it won’t snag on the projectile and takes Hunk’s hand. Hunk visibly relaxes once he has it in his grasp, tension easing from his face.

“Eggplant approves. Don’t you, Eggplant?”

“Yup.”

“We’re not calling her Eggplant! How about Grape?”

“You think Grape is better than Eggplant?” Hunk raises a brow.

“Uh, yeah. Grapes are sweeter than eggplants. She’s a sweet little— err, _big_ baby. Her name should reflect that.”

“Yup.” Almost like she understands the compliment, the yupper’s tail gives a wag.

“Not Grape,” Hunk insists.

“Okay, okay. How about Violet?”

“Hm…better.”

“Yup.”

“But still not right.” Lance thoughtfully rubs his chin. “Lilac, maybe?”

“Vi’let’s better.”

“Yup.”

“Um.” Lance leans forward and tips his head to peer more closely at the yupper. “Mulberry?”

“Mm…”

“Hey, don’t fade on me!” Lance whips his attention back to Hunk and gives his hand a hard squeeze. Eyelids nearly fallen shut snap open again. “No naps! You’re not allowed to pass out, remember? That’s why I’m back here.”

“Right,” Hunk says, slurring a little too much for comfort. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry!” Lance chokes out, shrill and fraught. “This is my fault! You only went back because you knew I was going to go back!”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Hunk mumbles, eyes glassy but thankfully still open.

“You could’ve died,” is what Lance says but what this icy, frantic feeling in his gut says is, _you could die._

“S’not on you,” Hunk says, smiling weakly. “It’s me. I always end up in the principal’s office when m’with you…always tag along anyway.”

“This is a lot different than the principal’s office.” Lance sniffs and blinks back the sting of tears.

“Don’t cry,” Hunk mumbles, lifting a shaky hand to Lance’s cheek and brushing away a teardrop with his thumb. His glove is crusted with dried blood and rough to Lance’s skin. His stomach roils at the touch.

“Yup.”

“Lance? Hunk? Is anyone there?” Allura’s voice comes through, her image filtered onto the Blue Lion’s dashboard.

Lance sucks in a breath and dives back into the pilot’s seat. “We need a wormhole and Hunk needs a pod!”

Allura’s eyes widen. “What happened?”

“No time to explain! Wormhole now, please!”

She hastily nods and closes the screen. Lance hurries back to Hunk who’s semiconscious at best, awkwardly slumped against the yupper and wheezing shallowly.

“Stay awake,” Lance snaps. “Just a little longer, we’re almost there!”

“Yup.”

He feels it when Blue slips through the wormhole. The subtle vibration of her walls, a familiar dip in his stomach.

Hunk closes his eyes and Lance slaps him hard enough to feel the sting of it, thoroughly desperate. Hunk blinks quickly, rousing enough to look at Lance like he actually sees him. It’s an enormous improvement.

“Sorry I hit you, just— you just gotta hang in there for a few more minutes.”

“Mm…Lav’nder?” Hunk asks, faint, scarcely audible.

Lance blanks, rattled beyond recognizing whatever this is in reference to.

“Yup.”

“Oh! You wanna call her Lavender?”

“Uh-huh…still purple.”

“Yup,” the beast herself concedes.

“You’re right. It’s perfect, can’t believe I didn’t think of it.” Lance shakily leans forward, careful not to bump the projectile as he nuzzles against his friend’s clammy cheek.

Blue lands in the hanger smoothly, with a feather like delicateness that betrays everything those massive metal paws would suggest.

* * *

Lance sits on the steps outside Hunk’s pod, jacket balled up in his lap. He absently messes with the zipper, tugging it up and down. He’s lost in thought and he doesn’t look up until Keith’s boots come into view.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Hey. Shiro’s trying to give your yupper a bath.”

“Trying to?” Lance lifts a brow.

“Yeah, she thinks it’s all a big game,” Keith chuckles. “She keeps shaking her fur out and covering the whole room in suds. That’s why I ducked out.”

“What kind of golden excuse got you out of bath duty?”

“Said I had to check out on you.” Keith sits down next to him. “Are you okay?”

“I am.” Lance looks to Hunk’s pod. “He’s not.”

“But he will be.”

Lance lowers his head and hunches over his jacket, his stomach tangling in a knot. “He could’ve died.”

“You saved his life.” Keith touches his shoulder.

“I put him in danger in the first place,” Lance mutters, guilt sizzling like acid in his throat. “Hunk went back for the yupper so I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you put him in danger,” Keith says thoughtfully. “I think you just motivated him to do his job.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lance snaps his head up and glares icily.

Keith is undaunted. “We’re paladins. Our job is rescue people from the Galra. Okay, so the yup— Lavender, right?”

Lance nods, still glaring.

“Okay, so Lavender isn’t exactly a person. She was suffering though, you can see her ribs and when Shiro stated scrubbing, he found all these scars hidden by her fur. Hunk gets cold feet sometimes but he saved her because you gave him the incentive, whether you meant to or not.”

“Let me get this straight.” Lance straightens up and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re saying it’s a good thing that I nearly got my best friend killed for an alien dog?”

“No, Lance.” Keith sighs in frustration and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m saying one of you was bound to go back for the yupper because we’re paladins and that’s what we do! Hunk going back and _almost_ dying is better than you going back and _actually_ dying. And I’m pretty sure that’s how it would’ve went down. You’re shorter, you’re smaller, that thing probably would’ve went all the way through you!”

“I…I didn’t think of that.”

“I know you got spooked but this could’ve gone a lot worse.”

“You’re right,” Lance breathes, soft. “No one died. We completed the mission and saved an alien dog to boot.”

“Coran and Pidge are doggy-proofing a guest room right now. Want to see what they’ve got going on?”

Lance hesitates, sliding another look to Hunk’s pod. He won’t be up for awhile. Lance isn’t waiting for that though, not really. He just feels better keeping close and keeping post. Like he should be here in case something goes wrong.

Of course, nothing’s going to go wrong. It’s an irrational fear. The pods always do their jobs.

“Think I’ll stay a little longer,” Lance says anyway.

“I can stay with you,” Keith offers.

“If you want to.” Lance shrugs. He’d be grateful for the company but sitting here isn’t particularly interesting and he won’t ask Keith to waste his time.

“Yeah. I do.”

Keith surprises him by putting an arm around his shoulders and Lance surprises himself even more by turning into the comforting touch.


End file.
